Breaking Away (26 page)

F
lash fidgeted in the hard plastic chair, trying to get comfortable. He’d thrown on a shirt and slid his feet into deck shoes, but the smell of grill smoke still clung to him. His knee bobbed in a nervous jig, and he stretched his leg out to stop it.

He glanced at his watch again. Five minutes later than the last time he’d checked. Sam and Joy had disappeared behind the emergency room doors at least an hour ago.

A nurse came to the double doors leading back into the examining rooms and called a name. A man with his hand wrapped in a bloody towel rose and hustled to her.

He scanned the other four people left sitting close by. He’d read somewhere that the average emergency room visit lasted four hours. They’d sat in the waiting room for forty minutes before someone had come to take Joy back, and they’d been in an examining room for over an hour.

Two orderlies with a gurney wheeled by and got on the elevator. Jeez, the staff around here moved at a snail’s pace. The florescent lights glared overhead, reflecting off the chrome on the plastic chairs and the wax job on the tile floors. His head throbbed dully.

Maybe he could take a quick power nap. Negative.

He’d never be able to sleep. Not until he found out how she was doing. He’d been up since five, and without dinner his energy level was in a tailspin. Maybe he could find a drive-through somewhere on the way home and get them each a burger.

Shit. He was thinking of anything to keep from freaking out. What if he’d hurt her? What if that was why it was taking so long? When it involved a kid as small as Joy, they’d get right on things, wouldn’t they?

If he had to sit here two more hours without knowing something he’d be going alpha on someone.

And he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on because she wasn’t his kid.

Shit!

Sam appeared at the double doors leading back into the examination room.

He lunged to his feet so quickly he startled one of the nurses strolling past. He murmured an apology and made tracks to Sam.

“They’ve taken x-rays to make certain she doesn’t have any further obstruction in her throat. We’re just waiting for them to be read. I’m sorry it’s taking so long.”

He ran his fingers down the back of her bare arm to sooth her. “No problem. As long as she’s okay.”

She offered him a tired smile. “The doctor thinks she’s fine. Very lucky. You can come on back if you’d like.”

Anything was better than sitting on that hard plastic chair and waiting alone. Flash followed Sam down the wide hall. The nurses’ duty station spread in a large semi-circle backed against the wall. The examination rooms fanned out around the counter, and Sam stepped inside one. Joy lay on a hospital bed, her bottom lip stuck out and her face, crimped in a frown, a miniature of her mother’s. The moment she saw him, her expression cleared and she sat up.

“Mr. Tim’s here. We’re going home.”

“In just a few minutes, honey,” Sam said.

“Mommy…” Joy’s tone morphed into a huffy whine. She flopped back on the bed.

How many times had Sam heard that in the last hour?

Based on her expression, quite a few.

“You must be feeling better,” he said to Joy as he took the only chair in the room, one with arms and actual cushions.

“My tummy’s mad,” Joy complained.

“What about?”

“It’s hungry.”

This kid got to him every time she opened her mouth. “If the doc says it’s okay, we’ll get something to eat on the way home.”

Joy’s bottom lip popped back out.

Flash looked around the room for something to entertain her with. The place was buttoned up tight. Not a tongue depressor or cotton ball in sight. Just more chrome and squeaky-clean floors. He glanced at Sam. “How long has it been since they x-rayed her?”

“Forever!” Joy exclaimed.

Flash laughed, and Sam did too. Man, Sam was going to have her hands full when this kid got older.

Flash dug in his pocket for his work phone. He surfed the web until he found what he was looking for, a Disney film. He paid for it with the business account and waited for the video to download, then rose and handed the device to Joy. He pushed the arrow to play the video. When the music for
Dumbo
started, her expression cleared.

“Joy, please be careful with that phone. Don’t drop it.”

“I won’t, mommy.”

“When Dumbo’s mom starts singing the song while she rocks him to sleep, I’ll have to leave. It always makes me cry like a baby,” Flash said.

Sam’s laugh made him smile again. The stress was draining from her features and body. The smile that lingered on her lips, the way she looked at him, had a foreign warmth spreading through his chest. He wanted to hold her again. Caress her. Ease her troubles.

What was it about this woman?

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“It’s amazing how good you are with her.”

“Moms have to worry about all the tough stuff. Guys just worry about having fun.”

Her smile widened then slipped away. “One day you’ll make a good father.”

Having kids had never been one of his goals. He hadn’t stayed long enough with one woman to think about it. “How can you tell?”

“You have nerves of steel and the patience of Job. Trust me, you’ll be a natural.”

So all his SEAL training was still good for something. “Thanks.”

Sam shifted her attention away from Tim. Why couldn’t she have met someone like him first? Instead of a controlling, abusive, bastard? But then, Will had been all hearts and flowers at first, too. He’d totally snowed her. Was Tim doing that?

Why was he so nice to them, protective almost?

His comment about Dumbo brought another smile to her lips. He had the most disarming sense of humor. Will had none at all.

Would she ever stop comparing every man she met to her ex? Probably not.

She’d learned the hard way when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. She had to keep her guard up. Hard to do, when Joy insisted on being crazy about him.

She was bound to be crazy about anyone who treated her with kindness. One more thing she had to protect her child against. Joy had no defenses against con men, and anyone else who would take advantage. Why couldn’t she be wary of everyone like her mother? Instead she was the opposite.

She looked up to find Tim’s attention focused on her. Something in his expression triggered a trembling heat low in her belly.

“Joy seems fine. How are you doing now?”

“I really thought I was going to lose her.”

“Scared me, too.”

“I’d have never guessed.”

“When you’re in the military, you learn to keep your head and save the emotional fallout for later.”

“Then what?”

He remained silent for a moment, his expression serious. He leaned forward in his chair, and resting his elbows on his knees, laced his fingers. “You just keep pushing on, putting one foot in front of the other and try and leave it behind.”

“And if you can’t?”

“You pour it into everything else you do.”

That made sense. And she was doing that. But as long as Will was still out there making her life hell, there would always be a never-ending supply of
more
to deal with.

But then Tim probably had a never-ending supply of his own to work through, and he still seemed pretty well-adjusted.

The doctor came in a few minutes later. “No obstruction and no signs of any lasting trauma to her throat. Next time, really chew those hot dog slices up before you swallow, Joy,” he said in parting.

Joy was more interested in watching the movie than listening to the doctor. She had almost choked to death and was already over it, while Sam would probably have nightmares for weeks.

As soon as the doctor was gone Joy’s attention shifted to Tim. “Time to go home,” she announced. Clutching the cell phone, she wiggled to the side of the bed.

Sam grabbed her arm to keep her from pitching headfirst off the side. She kept her stable until she’d gained her feet. “We have to wait for your release paperwork, honey.”

“Mommy…” Joy’s impatient whine was back.

“She’s not normally this whiney,” Sam said.

He shrugged. “She’s a kid. And it’s been…” He glanced at his watch. “Three hours. I think she’s doing great.”

Joy proceeded to climb into his lap. Sam started to tell her to get down, then bit back the comment when he wedged her in the bend of his arm against his side and offered to hold the phone for her.

Five minutes later, when a nurse appeared with the release paperwork, Joy lay boneless against him, sound asleep.

“Should we wake her?” Tim asked.

“She’ll be cranky. But she’ll be crankier if she doesn’t eat something before she goes to bed. All she’s had are some apple slices since her snack at four.”

Sam leaned over her and gave Joy a small shake. “Joy, wake up baby.”

Joy stirred. And curled closer to Tim.

“We’re going to get something to eat before we go home,” Sam said.

“Nuggets?” Joy asked sleepily.

“As long as you chew them up good.”

“’Kay.”

Tim leaned forward and holding her close, rose. He shifted her weight onto his arm. Her arms went around his neck and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Come on, sweet tart. Mommy and Mr. Tim need some chow, too.”

“What’s chow?” Joy asked.

“Nuggets.”

CHAPTER 21

M
arsha lay in bed listening to the shower. She studied a fan-shaped shadow that flickered and waved against the pale gold wall of her bedroom. She’d decorated the room in soothing tropical colors and made it a restful, romantic haven.

How long had it been since they’d made love? Or even reached for each other in sleep? Since before the break-in.

James came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. His damp hair shone like pewter. He’d started going gray at twenty, and now, at thirty-five, his hair looked white when dry. His brows and beard had remained dark, and lent his features an attractive, sensual masculinity. He went to the dresser to dig out his underclothes and socks, then moved on to the closet for his uniform.

He might sit behind a desk a great deal of his time, but he made it a priority to stay in shape. Had he not been in excellent condition, he’d have never survived the many beatings he’d sustained. He’d had a severe concussion, a broken nose, a shattered cheekbone and eye socket, broken ribs, a couple of broken teeth and numerous contusions. It had taken weeks for the swelling and bruising to subside.

The terrorists had used her to control him. Tormented him by touching her, threatening rape and worse.

Their efforts had driven underground any desire she’d had to be touched by a man. Was it like that for him too? Had seeing them put their hands on her killed his passion for her? Had the monsters managed to destroy that part of their marriage, too?

“James?”

He looked up from inspecting the khaki uniform he’d taken out of the closet.

“Do you miss making love?”

He studied her features, his eyes dark, then hung the uniform on the closet doorknob. He crossed the teal-colored bedroom carpet to sit on the bed next to her.